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He placed a hand to his heart and regarded her with so much compassion it almost made her weep like a newborn.“I’m in love, too, Marge. With a person I can’t have. I can relate. We all need romance in our lives, and sometimes it simply eludes us, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, it does! I mean, I’m a happily married woman, and I really shouldn’t feel like this, but sometimes I just want… more, you know? More romance, more of that… spark.”

“I hear you, Marge. One hundred percent.” He gave her a big smile—just like he did in his videos—then opened his arms wide. “Come here,” he said. “Let me give you hug.”

And then they hugged, and Marge thought it felt so good.“Oh, Randy,” she murmured.

And when Chase walked in ten seconds later that’s how he found them: Randy naked from the waist up, and both of them sitting on the bed locked into a tight embrace.

So he discreetly backtracked and closed the door. They hadn’t even noticed him.

Chapter 16

Little Randy wasn’t exactly feeling on top of the world. To be more precise he felt on the bottom of the world, or even below it, underneath the world, if that was even possible. He’d failed in his principal duty: to protect his human, and still Randy had decided to stick with him. Any other human would have simply dumped him—maybe taken him back to the breeder—or left him at the local pound—but not Randy Hancock. The man was so kind-hearted, so loving and generous he had seemingly forgiven Little Randy his trespasses and allowed him to tag along to this, his new home.

The Irish Setter had spent the entire afternoon in front of the window feeling sorry for himself, and now he was lying outside on the cool lawn, still feeling sorry for himself but also wondering where the cats he’d met earlier had gone off to.

And he was just hoping they’d return soon, as he was starting to feel a little lonely all by his lonesome, when suddenly he became aware of a pssting sound near where he lay.

He glanced up, and saw that a smallish dog was looking at him through a hole in the fence. If he wasn’t mistaken the dog was of the Yorkshire Terrier breed, and really tiny.

“Psst!” the doggie repeated. “Hey, big guy! Who are you?”

“My name is Little Randy,” he said, well pleased to discover that it wasn’t just cats who infested this part of the world but dogs, too. “And what is your name, tiny dog?”

“Fifi,” said the fluffy white thing. “So Odelia finally took a dog, huh? Tired of spending her life surrounded only by cats?”

“I’m not Odelia’s dog if that’s what you’re thinking, Fifi. I belong to Randy Hancock. The fitness star? He’s staying with Odelia for a couple of days and was so good to let me tag along, even though I failed him in every way.” He hung his head. “I allowed him to be poisoned, you see, and now he will die soon and I will be to blame.” He normally didn’t allow himself to confide in strangers, even if they were dogs, but he was feeling a little down in the dumps and it felt good to unburden his soul.

“Your human is about to die?” asked Fifi.

“Yeah, that poison will kill him in exactly three days and one night.”

“What will happen to you when he goes?”

“I don’t know. I assume I will go and live with one of Randy’s relatives. I’m sure he will have added a clause to his will stipulating my fate in great detail.” Another nail to the coffin of Little Randy’s conscience: even though he’d neglected to protect Randy, Randy was doing everything in his power to protect his precious dog—what a guy! What a pal!

“You know what I think you need?” asked Fifi now, as she glanced up at him shyly.

“A dose of the same poison that is going to kill my master?”

“You need to sing, Little Randy. Sing your heart out!”

“Sing?” he asked, eyeing Fifi as if she’d lost her tiny little mind. “What do you mean, sing?”

“Me and a buddy of mine have just launched dog choir, and we’re inviting all of our friends—and now I guess I’m inviting you, Little Randy. If you’re interested, of course.”

“Dog choir?” he said, making a face. He’d never heard of dogs singing before, except maybe in Saturday morning cartoons. “Dogs don’t sing, Fifi. Everybody knows that.”

“Cats don’t sing either, and yet this town has a very popular cat choir. They gather at the park every night, and sing their hearts out. So I figured why should it just be cats who get to sing, right? Why can’t dogs have some fun, too? And so Rufus and I are heading out there right now, so ifyou want to come, let’s get going, Little Randy.”

“But…”

She flashed him a shy but sweet smile.“What do you have to lose, my friend?”

This was absolutely true. He didn’t have anything to lose, except his dignity, and frankly he was beyond the point where that kind of stuff mattered. So he finally shrugged. “Okay. So where is this park of yours?”

“Follow me,” said Fifi, and popped through the hole in the fence, then tripped over to the hedge that separated Odelia’s backyard from her parents’ and said, “Rufus! Rufus, let’s go!”